Thanks For the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One
by An Occasional Writer
Summary: Based on a rejected idea from the writers of Up. Paradise Falls, "A Land Lost in Time," has always seemed magical to Carl and his late wife, Ellie. But what exactly makes it that way? And will Carl will be willing to accept that discovery in the end?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Well, it's been a while, and I know that some of you have been waiting for me to update a certain other story, but I've gotten inspiration for something different. At twenty-four years of age as of a few weeks ago, I've seen a lot of Pixar movies in my lifetime. And there are two movies in particular I think of when I think "perfect Pixar movies." Those movies are Inside Out and UP. I'm uncertain as to which one I think is actually better, and my opinion can go back and forth, but for right now, my favorite is UP.. It's just unbelievable how good it is. Even the silly moments make me laugh, and much like Inside Out, there are scenes that have brought me CLOSE to tears (I'm not a crier at movies.) And while reading information about the making of UP, I learned about an alternate story line the filmmakers had planned before they decided to scrap it. And that's where my inspiration came from. I'm a big fan of "What If" stories, so that's what this is going to be. What if UP followed a similar plot, but with one significant change? Read on to find out what it is. It begins near the halfway point of the movie when Carl and Russell arrive at Paradise Falls. I haven't written any stories in years, so let's try it again, and this time, I'll finish it. Enjoy.

**Thanks For the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One**

Chapter One:

It really was more beautiful than he could possibly have imagined.

The boundless landscapes. The lush rain forests spreading across the terrain. The calm, majestic rush of the Falls itself. The map that Ellie had torn from a library book all those decades ago could hardly do Paradise Falls justice. And he was finally there. He had fulfilled his promise. And all it took was patience, perseverance, and a couple thousand balloons.

Oh, and a nine year old Wilderness Explorer that would not...stop...TALKING!

"I'm tiiiiired. And my knee hurrrrts."

"Which knee?"

"...My elbow hurrrrts. And I have to go to the bathroom."

"I asked you about that five minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't have to go then!"

It was wishful thinking, asking a child to play, "See Who Can Be Quiet the Longest," while he took his and his deceased wife's house to the correct side of the be told, he shouldn't have expected it to last longer than five minutes.

The damn kid could even make it past two.

And two hours later, 78 year old Carl Fredricksen found himself ready to burst out in anger. Between his aching bones, his malfunctioning hearing aid, the toil of tugging an ENTIRE HOUSE behind him, and Russell, his unwilling traveling partner complaining every five seconds, his already thin patience was approaching graphene levels of whispyness.

It didn't help that he felt a large weight behind him suddenly fall to the ground.

In a muffled tone, clearly obstructed thanks to dirt in his mouth, Russell moaned, "I don't wanna walk anymore. Can we stop?"

"Russell!" Carl snapped. "If you don't hurry up the tigers will eat ya!"

"There's no tigers in South America." Russell replied, briefly turning on his back. "Zoology." He then proceeded to flop back on his face.

Carl, finally giving up, rubbed his face with a grimy hand, soothing the tension in his forehand. "Ah, for the love of Pete. Go on into the bushes and do your business."

"Ok! Here, hold my stuff!"

And just like that, Russell was up, as if the previous conversation had never happened. Bouncing with energy, he shoved his backpack into Carl's hands, tied his end of the rope to a nearby tree, and bounded off, a shovel and leaves at the ready. Carl exhaled quietly, content to just sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet, even if just for a minute. But before he left, he heard Russell utter, "I've always wanted to try this."

'_I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna hear it,'_ Carl thought to himself.

"Mr Fredricksen," Russell said from a distance, "Am I supposed the dig the hole before, or after?"

And now Carl REALLY didn't want to hear it. "Ehh, none of my concern!"

"Oh," Russell paused, "It's befoooore!"

"LALALALALALALALA…"

Meanwhile, not far from where Carl sat, a certain Wilderness Explorer was just finishing his very important "business." Patting the pile with his shovel, the young boy breathed out a sigh of relief. A job well done, indeed.

Figuring he still had a few minutes before Mr. Fredricksen got worried, Russell decided to take a look at the nature surrounding him. The ferns, fauna, and various other tropical plants were interesting enough in the pictures in his Wilderness Explorer handbook, but there was something about seeing them in person that made Russell particularly excited.

'_I wonder if Mr. Fredricksen will let me take some leaves home with me for my collection,' _Russell thought absentmindedly.

He brushed through several overhanging branches, hoping that somewhere, he would find something a little more exotic to take home, like perhaps some bamboo. He didn't have a pocket knife or anything sharp to cut it with, but maybe Mr. Fredricksen did. After all, he did have his entire house just a few hundred feet away. And the man was like suuuuper old. He probably had tons of tools and knickknacks lying around.

Continuing deeper into the forest, Russell slowed down when something out of the corner of his eye that caught his attention. In a rain forest in South America, especially during the heart of summer, one would expect to see nothing but green. But this particular object wasn't green. It was a bright, cobalt blue. And it was shimmering.

Leaning down, Russell crawled up to the strange object and picked it up, rolling it around in his hands. It should've seemed very familiar to a growing boy. He had seen many like it before. But never in this color. It couldn't be what he thought it was. Nevertheless, he voiced his thoughts out loud.

"It looks like...some kind of egg."

It really did. It was oval shaped, and despite the strange color, he could feel the hard shell through his fingertips. It was an egg. It even smelled kind of like one. But he still couldn't be sure without consulting an adult. Almost subconsciously, Russell began walking back to the floating house.

"Maybe Mr. Fredricksen knows what it is."

But just as his attention was diverted by the egg, Russell found himself distracted by a path of tracks in the dirt.

"Snipe!"

A/N: Chapter One was originally supposed to be much longer than this, clocking in at over 3,000 words. However, I figured it could work just as well split up into two chapters, so that the first chapter doesn't explain too much right off the bat. Even better, that means that Chapter Two is already complete! So while you're checking out Chapter One, the next will be ready to go and I can begin work on Chapter Three.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: On to Chapter Two, originally the second half of Chapter One. This delves more into the new plot line. Hope you enjoy!

**Thanks For the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One**

Chapter Two:

Back at the floating home, Carl was busy tightening the straps that held the house to the tree. Even if he were fifty years younger, he wouldn't want to be tied to something that heavy for more than a few minutes. A sturdy tree more than made up for his lack of strength.

'_Say, I wonder where Russell is. The brat's been taking an awful lot of time just to use the bathroom.'_

"I found the Snipe!"

And then suddenly, there was THAT voice. Speak of the Devil.

Carl decided to humor the boy. "Oh, did you?"

"Are they tall?" Russell asked.

"Oh yes, they're very tall."

"Do they have a lot of colors?"

A somewhat specific question, but okay. "They do indeed!"

"Do they like chocolate?"

"Oh yeah-chocolate?"

At that, Carl finally turned around to acknowledge Russell, and what he saw was not at all what he was expecting. A very tall, very colorful bird, exactly how Russell described it, stared back at him, and squawked loudly. Carl wasn't fooled by the way Russell looked at it with a level of fondness, it looked like it could kill. And kill very easily.

"Ah! What is that thing?!" Carl screamed.

"It's a Snipe!" Russell chirped happily.

Carl quickly grabbed Russell and started dragging him away from the frightful bird. "There's no such thing as a Snipe!" The two seriously needed to run before they became the bird's next meal.

But the Snipe in question wasn't having any of it. Hissing at Carl, it snatched Russell in its mouth and began playing with him, cuddling the boy and tossing him higher and higher in the air, only to catch him at the last second. It would've been kind of cute had Carl not been scared out of his wits. There wasn't much he could do against something that size, but he had to protect the boy somehow.

Using his walker, he futilely jabbed repeatedly at the monstrous creature, but it was about as effective as, well, exactly what was just described. Soon enough, the bird's hissing became more and more intense, before it finally put Russell down and focused its attention on the old man. Narrowing its steely black eyes, it puffed its feathers out, seemingly growing in size, and clicked its beak. Carl backed up in fear, his back hitting the tree behind him, but before he could be attacked, Russell came to his aid.

"Nonononono, Kevin!" Russell said loudly, running in front of Carl. "It's okay. Mr. Fredricksen is nice." He patted Carl on the head for good measure.

"Kevin?"

"Yeah," Russell replied. "That's his name I just gave him."

Now calmer and seemingly satisfied with Russell's claim, the bird squawked again and roughly patted Carl on the head three times with his beak. Carl countered by again trying to shoo it away, but the creature responded by shoving his walker down its throat. And so, one regurgitated walker and demeaning argument later, Carl gave up and put some distance between himself and "Kevin," going back to check on the ropes.

Russell, who was now using the bird as stilts, asked innocently, "Can we keep him? Please?"

'_No.' _Carl thought, but was too angry to say it out loud.

"I'll get the food for him. I'll walk him, I'll change his newspapers," Russell continued with a child like desperation.

"No." Carl said, utterly fed up with the situation. What, did the kid think this was a pet he could take home with him? The damn thing was this close to EATING him thirty seconds ago.

"Pleeeeeease," Russell said again, attempting a pitiful look to win Carl over, even though the old man wasn't looking. "Can he at least come along with us? He even makes food for us!"

"No, he cannot-what?"

Makes food for us? What was the kid talking about? Turning around, Carl was surprised to see Russell holding something up to his face. Far too close to his face to be comfortable, unfortunately, as the kid didn't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. Muttering to himself, the old man grabbed the item and held it further back so that his weak vision could compensate.

It was...an egg. That was it. Certainly not any ordinary egg, as most eggs weren't blue, but it didn't seem too impressive otherwise. It was hardly bigger than his palm. Even if they ran out of food (which they wouldn't for a while, as Carl had an entire fridge full,) a single egg wouldn't provide enough sustenance to last a few hours.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Carl asked, in a somewhat condescending tone.

At that, Russell looked confused. "Well, you eat it, dontcha? We need food to survive in the forest."

"Russell," Carl began, rubbing his fingers against his temples, "One egg is not enough for one breakfast, let alone for two people. And what eggs do you eat that are blue? It could be poisonous!"

"But Kevin made it, and I think he wants us to have it," Russell explained, clearly not getting it. "After all, he is coming with us, and we could use…"

"I never said he was coming with us!" Carl said, his voice increasing in volume. "You asked if he could, and I said no! That thing was about to kill us! You think I want something that dangerous following me at every turn?!"

"But Mr. Fredricksen…"

"No buts!" Carl yelled, clenching the egg tightly enough that small cracks began to show. "This is my journey and this is my house! And as long as you're stuck with me, you listen to what I say! I'm not having this stupid egg, and he's not coming with us!" With that, Carl made to smash the egg on the hard grass.

But a particularly loud hiss from Kevin quickly made Carl freeze. Looking up, he saw Kevin staring at him with somehow more intensity than before, clicking its beak three times in succession. Clearly, that had been the wrong thing to say.

Looking down again at the egg clutched within his fingers, Carl wondered what was so special about a piece of food that a strange bird wanted him to have. Sure, he admits, it is very pretty to look at, with the way it seems to brighten in the sunlight, but what does that have to do with anything he's dealing with right now?

'_It does look kind of familiar, though._' Running the egg through his palm, Carl suddenly saw the connection.

The shape and shade of the egg was eerily similar to the balloon he had when he was a kid. The one he had when he had first met Ellie. Yeah, it seemed silly, ludicrous even, but for some reason, Carl couldn't get that image out of his mind.

The night after he had met Ellie, while he was in his room reading a book, his balloon had come floating into his room, weighed down by a stick. And then Ellie had scared the living daylights out of him. But what was scary then seemed charming in retrospect.

'_She never ran out of energy, did she?' _Carl thought to himself, chuckling slightly. '_Always moving, always doing something exciting.'_

It was one of the many things that made him fall in love with her, and one of the things he still missed about her to this day.

Oh god, did he miss her.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was even dangerous, but looking at this extraordinary egg brought out memories he had cherished for years, and for that, he at least owed it to Russell and Kevin to let his common sense go, even if just for a moment.

"Fine, Russell," Carl sighed, handing the egg over to the boy, "I'll give it a try."

At that, Russell instantly brightened. "You got it, Mr. Fredricksen! I'll be right back with some firewood!" He then left to do just that, Kevin following eagerly.

"Yeah, yeah," Carl waved halfheartedly, rubbing his hand on his chin in exhaustion.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

No less than thirty minutes later, Carl found himself perched by a small fire that Russell had managed to conjure up. Of course, that's not to say Russell did it flawlessly. The boy had nearly burned himself several times. But Carl supposed that the amount of Wilderness Explorer meetings and camping trips had cultivated some skills in the young lad, even if he was still kind of uncoordinated and out of shape.

Carl still could have done without Kevin watching over him, his beady eyes tracking Carl's every movement.

Before he could ask if Russell was done, he found a plate shoved in his hand with half the egg.

"Well," Russell said proudly, "Eat up. I made it all by myself."

Carl looked reluctantly up at Kevin. "And you're sure this isn't dangerous to eat?"

A loud screech was all he got in response.

Sighing, Carl took a fork he had borrowed from Russell's backpack and dug it into the egg, noting that it was cooked over-medium.

'_Not too runny, but not too solid either.' _Carl chuckled inwardly. '_Not bad, kid.'_

With one last pause, more out of stubbornness than anything, Carl shoveled his half of the egg in his mouth in one bite just as Russell did his half, not noticing the strangely pleased expression Kevin gave him from above.

It was actually pretty good. Carl had to give Russell some credit, the kid had some talent in the kitchen. Maybe if the Wilderness Explorer thing didn't work out, the kid could become a chef. Of course, by the time Russell would be old enough to do it professionally, Carl would more than likely be too old to enjoy it anyway.

That or he would be dead.

But for now Carl was content to enjoy a simple meal with strange company before things got complicated again. And it really was a good meal. Carl had never tasted an egg so rich. The flavor sent a warm tingle throughout his old body, from his head all the way down to his toes. Despite how small it was, Carl felt almost rejuvenated as he swallowed the last of it. But for some reason, something still seemed off. Eggs weren't meant to make him feel like that, were they?

Before he could think about it further, Russell had taken the plate from his hands and shoved it back into his backpack, saying something about how much he liked the egg as well. Carl wasn't really listening.

It seemed that despite the surprisingly welcome break, it was time to get back to business. A good meal is always nice, but fulfilling a loved one's dream would always be more important. Grabbing his garden hose/tether, Carl wrapped it around his shoulders and set off once again for Paradise Falls, while Russell excitedly babbled to Kevin behind him. As he trudged along the uneven grounds, the sweat building up due to the high temperatures of South America caused a few strands of hair to fall in front of his eyes.

"Huh," Carl said aloud, brushing his hair away from his face, "Gotta get this trimmed at some point."

Of course, in the rain forest, Carl could hardly go to a barber, so he let the thought go. But in his dismissal, the old man failed to notice that the few strands of hair he brushed away didn't match the rest like they should have.

A/N: Alright, that's chapter two. I tried to balance out scenes from the movie with original material, and I hope you readers want an egg after all of this. Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Not much to say. Edited this in later when I realized I forgot a proper introduction. Anyway, enjoy!

**Thanks For the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One**

Chapter Three:

The rain splattered unrelentingly against the balloons supporting Carl's house, while the old man huddled underneath, cradling his aching body for warmth. He glanced up with a worried frown. If the rain got any more intense, the droplets could potentially pop the balloons, and then the house would sink to the ground and all Carl's work would have been for nothing.

All in all, it had been quite a day. After the trio of Carl, Russell, and Kevin had finished their meal in the forest and continued on their journey, they had come across a more open landscape with limited foliage and oddly-shaped rocks. Once there, they fortunately, or in Carl's opinion, unfortunately, ran into a dog named Doug.

Normally, seeing a dog would not seem out of the ordinary. However, this one talked.

No, really.

Some science mumbo-jumbo that Carl didn't wish to think about allowed a dog to produce human speech. And for some reason, the animal instantly latched on Carl, proclaiming him to be his new master.

And soon enough, the now quartet had devolved into a fit of arguing. Doug would not let go of Kevin, asking desperately for Kevin to be his prisoner. Kevin would not stop hissing at Doug in retaliation. Russell was stuck between obnoxiously asking Carl if he could keep both "pets," and loudly trying to break the bird and dog apart before they attacked each other.

And Carl just wanted to be alone.

Despite his earlier comments, he could handle one companion. Although he was annoying and kind of oblivious, Russell had a good head on his shoulders and was generally pretty nice. But three companions, especially ones as strange as an exotic bird and a talking dog, were far too much.

And throughout it all, Carl still felt that strange tingling sensation through his body.

'_Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll have a stroke and drop dead,' _Carl thought.

At least now, in the dead of night, both Doug and Kevin were asleep, significantly reducing the noise output among the group. Sighing, Carl looked up again at his house.

"Well, thanks for keeping us dry anyway, Ellie."

Meanwhile, off to the side, Russell was trying and failing to put together a tent. "Which one's the front?" The boy asked to himself.

Carl groaned.

"Is this step three, or step five?"

Russell proceeded to put more pressure on the plastic tent poles, in an attempt to force them together. With a sudden snap, Carl flinched. That had to have left a mark.

"All done." Russell said, turning towards Carl. Yep, that had indeed left a mark. A very ugly, red mark. "That's for you."

The shoddily made promptly tent shot from its perch high into the air, as if ejected from a cannon. With a whistle, it plummeted down the nearby falls.

Russell groaned, sitting down next to Carl. "Ohh, tents are hard."

"Wait," Carl said, "aren't you super wilderness guy? With the GPM's and the badges?"

Almost ashamed, Russell shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. "Yeah, but...can I tell you a secret?"

"No."

"Alright," Russell continued, as if not hearing. "Here goes. ...Ineveractuallybuiltatentbefore. There, I said it!"

Carl was surprised. A kid as confident and proud of his organization as Russell had never done something as simple as building a tent? Wasn't that one of the first steps to becoming a Wilderness Adventurer or whatever?

This sparked a back and forth conversation between the two that revealed more about the young boy than Carl had expected. Seems as if the lad didn't have the best family life. His parents were divorced, and he didn't speak to his father often. His mother was more of a question mark, as Russell didn't say much about her, but the step-mother obviously could care less about him. So the kid was more or less on his own half the time. Maybe that's why he was so eager to assist Carl. By becoming a Senior Wilderness Explorer, he would finally get the attention from his absent father that he deserved.

Soon enough, Carl began to feel uncomfortable. Not just from Russell's confessions, but also because there was something in the boy that reminded him of someone else.

"But," Russell paused, "He promised he'd come to my Explorer ceremony, to pin on my Assisting the Elderly badge. So, he can show me about tents then, right?"

He looked so sad, yet so hopeful at the same time. At this point, Carl was pretty sure he knew who Russell reminded him of, but he tried to force those thoughts away. He didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Hey um, why don't you get some sleep?" Carl asked, his voice softening. "Don't wanna wake up the um, traveling flea circus."

A brief pause.

"Mr. Fredicksen," Russell said, "Doug says he wants to take Kevin prisoner." He tightened his fists. "We have to protect him."

Yawning, the kid leaned down on the log and shut his eyes. "Can Kevin go with us?"

As much as he wanted to say no, Carl realized at this moment that he couldn't so it. So he answered, "Alright, he can come."

"Promise you won't leave him?"

"...Yeah."

"Cross your heart?"

Carl's eyes widened. There it was. He couldn't deny it anymore. Russell was so much like Ellie. The curiosity, kindness towards all living creatures, the stubbornness, the determination to do the right thing. They were all qualities that this nine year old shared with Carl's late wife. And to top it all off, the phrase, "cross your heart." It invoked too many repressed feelings and memories that Carl had tried to shove away since her death. He thought the weird egg had been bad, but talking to Russell was ten times worse.

He loved Ellie. He always had, and he always would. But he had failed her. Even though he had finally fulfilled his promise to take her to Paradise Falls, she wasn't there. She was there in spirit, but she wasn't really alive for him to hold in her arms.

They had had their chances. Years ago, they had attempted to save up for the trip. But little things kept getting in the way, and kept frittering away at their savings.

'_I was so careless back then.'_ Carl thought to himself. '_I didn't take good enough care of our car. I got injured too often. I didn't protect the house when the rains hit.'_

All those things and more, were reasons for melancholy. If he couldn't truly keep a pledge to his beloved Ellie, then how could he do it for a kid he barely knew? And yet...

"Cross my heart."

He didn't know why he said it. It's not even like he was confident that he could do it a second time around. He didn't even like Russell that much. But for some reason, he had to try. He just had to. Ellie would want him to.

"What have I gotten myself into, Ellie?"

It wasn't long after before Carl finally lay down on the rocks beside Russell and shut his eyes, absentmindedly rubbing the chest area surrounding his heart. His ears ached as well, but he ignored it for the time being, shutting off his hearing aid and placing it on the ground. The damn thing had been wonky all day anyway. At least now, he could slumber in silence.

Meanwhile, the tingling feeling remained.

The next day, Carl found himself awoken by the croaking of a nearby frog. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the old man slapped the frog on the head, effectively silencing it like an alarm clock. Sitting up, he put on his eyes and stretched out his limbs, the familiar cracks and aches making themselves present, even though he could swear he heard fewer than usual.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Carl mumbled up at house-Ellie. Looking more closely, he was concerned to see several of the outside balloons had begun to fall slightly. Time was running out.

"We'd better get moving."

Grouching to himself, Carl, with his eyes firmly planted on the house, began feeling around for his hearing aid. "Now where is that damn thing, anyway?" He could hear the sounds of birds chirping and Russell snoring right next to him as his hand fumbled across the ground.

Wait…

He could hear all that?

Confused, Carl felt around his ear. "Did I put the thing back in while I was asleep? What the…"

It wasn't there. It only took a few seconds for Carl to find it by his foot, now that he was more focused. He held it up to his face, eyes widening. He wasn't hallucinating. The hearing aid wasn't placed in his ear. It wasn't even on. And yet he could hear everything perfectly.

"What in the world?"

What was going on? Why had his hearing suddenly returned? He had been depending on a hearing aid for the past five years. In fact, his left ear was too far gone to use one at all. But he could hardly deny the evidence in front of him.

Was it all the noise he had been around recently? Kevin's screeching, Doug's babbling, Russell's questions. Had he been so accustomed to silence since Ellie died that the recent abundance of noise had managed to pierce its way through?

Until he got some answers, these ridiculous questions were all he had to work with.

"Where's Kevin?!" A loud voice interrupted. Looks like Russell was awake. "He's wandered off!"

Soon enough, they had found Kevin. He had just been on Carl's roof, stowing away food for her babies. So, Kevin really was a girl? Alright. Whatever. Russell insisted they follow Kevin to make sure she was properly reunited with her babies, but Carl pointed out that they had lost enough time already. The last thing they needed was for the house to suddenly lose its support and crash down on top of them.

Besides, there were more pressing matters for Carl to discuss right now.

Sadly, Russell held up his remaining chocolate to the old man. "This was her favorite chocolate." He swallowed pitifully. "Because you sent her away, there's more for you."

"Kid, I don't want any chocolate right now." Carl said pointedly. "I need to ask you something."

"What?"

Lowering his voice so that Doug wouldn't hear (hopefully) Carl whispered, "Did anything...**weird** happen while I was asleep last night?"

"Uh," Russell replied, scratching his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm a pretty light sleeper, so if anything had happened to you, I'd have known about it."

"Oh." Carl supposed that made sense. Russell did have a way of going from zero to 100 almost instantly, even in sleep. But that did nothing to erase his confusion. He looked down at his clenched fist as a brief silence fell between the two.

Russell became worried at Carl's lack of response, beginning to talk faster than normal. "Is everything okay, Mr. Fredricksen? Are you feeling dizzy, or short of breath? Do you need First Aid? Do you need CPR? How do you do CPR again? Maybe if I…"

"No! No no no no!" Carl insisted, waving his hands in at attempt to pacify the distressed child. "I'm not sick or anything. I feel fine. Better than fine, even."

"Oh." Russell said, calming down. "Then what's the problem?"

Wordlessly, Carl held up the hearing aid to the kid's face.

"Wow!" Russell exclaimed, grabbing the device and marveling over it in his hands. "Is this one of those things that old people use to hear? Cause my grandpa used to say he wished he could turn his off whenever I came to visit. But then mom would yell at him, and…"

"Yes!" Carl interrupted, unused to the heavy volume that he could no longer mute. He covered his ears with his hands. "That's what it is. I use it to hear!"

Pause. "But you can hear me right now, can't you?"

"Yes!" Carl said again, beginning to lose his patience. "That's the problem! I couldn't hear without it until this morning!"

At this, Russell stopped, becoming more curious. "So what d'ya think fixed your ears, Mr. Fredricksen?"

"If I knew, do you honestly think I would be asking you?"

"No," Russell answered, looking down at the ground. "I guess not."

Another few seconds of silence. Russell looked back up again at Carl, and to the old man's bewilderment, pointed his finger directly above Carl's head.

"Do you think whatever did it made your hair look different, too?"

"My hair?" Carl questioned, weaving his hand through his scalp almost on reflex. "What does my hair have to do with this? I was asking about my hearing. I…"

But something made Carl stop. Looking upwards, he fingered the locks on his head more slowly. It shouldn't have felt this weird. He had worn his hair short for years. And even though it was still full, he knew it had begun to thin as he reached a more advanced age. But it certainly didn't feel like it was thinning. If anything, it felt a little thicker. And longer. He tugged at a lock and held it in front of his face.

It was blonde.

Carl frowned in confusion. Blonde? He hadn't had hair that shade in decades. And it wasn't so bright it could be mistaken for platinum. It was a deep, golden color. Grabbing a few more clumps of hair, Carl found the others to be the same shade of white he was familiar with.

"Must be a trick of the light or something."

"Well, whatever it is, you look great, Mr. Fredricksen," Russell said helpfully, giving the old man a thumbs up.

"Yeah, thanks kid," Carl smiled, patting the boy on the head. Internally though, he was more confused than ever. Even if he could explain the hair, he still had no answer for his strengthened hearing. Or the ever persistent tingling. He needed some kind of visual.

"Russell, do you have a mirror of some kind?"

"Why do you need a mir…?"

"Do you have one or not?" Carl asked more sternly.

Russell fumbled around his backpack for a few seconds, eventually coming up with a small one that was unusually grimy. He mentioned something dropping it into a pond, but Carl wasn't concerned about the details. He held the mirror up to his face.

What he saw was mostly in line with what he was familiar with. Deep bags under his eyes. Age spots decorating his cheeks and forehead. Etched laugh lines on the edges of his lips. A sagging jawline. Loose skin hanging from his neck. All common traits of a man his age.

But his hair didn't quite match.

He was wrong in his initial assumption that the blonde streak was a visual trick. Around his head, there were a few strands of blonde intermingling with the white. And was it his imagination, or was his hair longer as well?

It wasn't just the hair. As Carl leaned so close to the mirror that it was practically pressing against his nose, he realized that even his second observation wasn't completely accurate. He still had age spots, laugh lines, and bags, but they weren't as prominent as they had been yesterday. They looked more faded, as if someone had filtered his face through an old-fashioned photo. He still resembled an elderly gentleman, but now he looked more like he was in his late sixties as opposed to near eighty.

"What the heck is going on?" Carl said aloud, prodding and poking the areas around his face.

But before he or Russell could do anything else, they were suddenly surrounded by three other dogs, each one much more menacing than Doug. The clear alpha, an imposing Doberman Pinscher, walked slowly to Doug, growling.

In a comically high pitched voice, Alpha said, "Where's the bird? You said you had the bird."

"Oh yes." Doug replied. "Oh yes. Since I have said that, I can see how you would think that."

"Where is it?!"

"Uh...tomorrow. Come back tomorrow, and then I will again have the bird. Yes." Doug let his tongue, smiling happily, hoping his explanation would be enough.

It wasn't enough.

The Doberman insisted they come with the pack, but Carl initially refused. Besides the fact that he came here to bring his house to the Falls, he oddly enough wasn't too keen on being threatened by talking dogs.

Obviously, the dogs did not agree with that sentiment.

And that's how Carl and Russell found themselves walking cautiously in the opposite direction, fending off the dogs at every step. They had no idea where they were going, but it's not like they had a choice otherwise. Through the trek, the two were too distracted and scared to even think about what they had been discussing.

And Carl was much too preoccupied with making sure his cane wasn't stolen to notice that he wasn't supporting his left side as much as usual.

A/N: I'm sure many of you can guess what's going on at this point, but Carl doesn't know yet, so don't tell him, shh! Stay tuned for chapter four where the big reveal takes place. And yes, it's finished already. While I work on Chapter Five, I'll be looking over Chapter Four and making any necessary edits. See ya soon!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hope the people who have read this have enjoyed it so far. On we go!

**Thanks for the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One**

Chapter Four:

He and Russell really should've been dog chow by now. Dozens upon dozens of dogs had been baring their teeth at the two humans as recently as five minutes ago, ready to munch upon Carl and Russell's meaty flesh. But thankfully, salvation had come in the form of Charles Muntz.

A hobbled, wacky, ninety three year old Charles Muntz. But still Charles Muntz. Carl and Ellie's childhood idol.

The younger septuagenarian couldn't believe his fortune. This was the man he had aspired to be even before he had met his future wife. And to top it off, he had been given an opportunity to go inside the Spirit of Adventure. The same Spirit of Adventure Charles himself had used all those decades ago to begin his expedition. It was beyond magical. It was a dream come true.

For the first time since arriving at the Falls, Carl felt like things were finally going his way.

Even his trick knee wasn't giving him trouble.

Neither was his back for that matter.

Trapped in a daze like state since entering the blimp, Carl was suddenly brought back to reality as he and Russell entered Charles' dining room, surrounded by the now friendly hounds. Things were starting to get concerning. Carl could rationalize his sudden hearing recovery, to an extent. He could even disregard the blonde hair, seeing as there were only a few of them and they weren't noticeable. But he couldn't ignore this for much longer.

As a man of his age, aches and pains were common occurrences. Sometimes he could barely walk down the street without injuring himself. At any point in the day, a bone or muscle here or there could act up and cause him distress.

But now it barely hurt to walk. Or sit. Carl sat down in his chair between Russel and Charles, expecting to have to shake out the cricks in his shoulders and neck as he did so. But instead all he felt was a slight twinge. His mind insisted he was **supposed** to feel pain, but his body almost refused to listen.

He had to find a clean mirror and get a good look at himself. Whatever was going on with him, it clearly wasn't normal. But he couldn't just leave the room. Besides the fact that dozens of flea-ridden bodyguards were watching him, he couldn't be so impolite to Charles. The man had welcomed him and Russell into his home. Carl had to at least put on a brave face until he had a chance to be by himself.

And besides, he was hungry.

Forcing a smile, Carl turned towards Charles. "Oh, my Ellie would've loved all this." He gestured towards his floating house. "You know it's because of you she had this dream to come down here and live by Paradise Falls."

"I'm honored." Charles responded with a smile. "And now you've made it."

"You sure we're not a bother? I'd hate to impose…"

"No no, it's a pleasure to have guests." Charles insisted. "A real treat!"

All at once, the surrounding dogs became excited, shouting, "Treat," over and over again, drowning out the conversation between the elderly gentlemen. Charles muttered angrily to himself.

"Shouldn't have used that word." Slamming his fist on the table, he directed his voice at his pets. "Having guests is a **delight!" **That effectively shut the dogs up.

But now that their chat had been so abruptly cancelled, Carl needed something something else to distract from the growing awkwardness. His eyes settled on the dish in front of him. "So, Shrimp Creole?"

"Oh yes!" Charles responded, his chipper attitude returning. "One of Epsilon's finest works! I'd have it every night if I could. Go on, give it a shot!"

Glad that the change in topic had worked, Carl eagerly dug into the meal. And oh boy, was it good. It was so good it made caviar taste like cheap mush. In just a few bites, Carl had torn his way through the whole dish, to the surprised looks of both Charles and Russell. At the sound of silence, Carl looked up from his bowl, the tail end of a shrimp hanging from his mouth.

"What?"

Charles looked bemusedly at Carl. "A little famished, are we?"

As if suddenly realizing what he had been doing, a blush spread across Carl's face, staining his complexion a deeper red than the sauce of his dish. He quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Um...sorry. I don't normally eat that much in one sitting."

"I'll say," Charles said with a hearty chuckle. "I swear you eat with the stomach of someone thirty years your junior."

Despite his embarrassment, Carl couldn't help but chuckle as well, joining in the banter. "Only thirty, Mr. Muntz. I'm flattered, but not stupid. Try fifty."

"Hey," Charles replied, shrugging, "Maybe these eyes can't see like they used to, but let me tell you, when you get to be as old as I am, everyone else seems like a rugrat!" The two men shared a great laugh at that, while Russell stared on in confusion. Shrugging, the boy went back to defending his hotdog and orange juice before they vanished. Eventually, Charles continued.

"I mean, how you can't be that old. What are you, fifty-five? Fifty-six?"

The laughter bubbling out of Carl abruptly stopped, and the man froze. Fifty-five? That wasn't right. That wasn't even close to his true age.

"Uh..." Carl stuttered, "Seventy-eight, actually."

He expected Charles to be surprised. He expected him to ask questions.

But what he didn't expect was for Charles to lean back in his chair slowly, his smile fading gradually into a neutral expression. His shoulders became more hunched, his posture more rigid, but his eyes actually grew brighter. They pierced through the dimly lit dining room.

"Oh. Interesting."

Carl didn't really know how to respond to that, so instead he gestured down towards his empty plate. "Um, do you have any more food?"

Without another word, Charles made a signal to Epsilon, and another dish was prepared. Carl so wanted to attack it like he had the first, but something in Charles' gaze effectively killed off his appetite. Even Russell, normally oblivious, had paused in his meal, noticing the sudden tension. The surrounding dogs around the table had all their attention focused on Carl, and the previous friendliness and good-naturedness had all but vanished, leaving the dining room much colder than before.

Clearly, Carl revealing his age had sparked something within the older gentleman, and Carl was willing to bet it wasn't positive. He looked back at the old explorer, who attempted to mollify Carl by smiling again, but he could tell it wasn't genuine. Despite all that had happened recently, Carl was loathe to admit he still didn't really know exactly what was happening.

But he now had a strong suspicion Charles did.

Taking another bite of his Shrimp Creole, he chewed once. Twice. Three times.

And then out of nowhere, an intense pain burst through the right side of his jaw.

"Aaah!" Carl screamed, grabbing his mouth.

"Mr. Fredricksen!" Russell exclaimed, dropping his hot dog and rushing over to the old man's side. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Carl sat up straight, massaging his jaw gently. The pain had ebbed a little bit, but it wasn't disappearing. In fact, it almost seemed to be spreading. "No. Not really."

Initially in one small spot, the pain was soon felt around his entire mouth, and it was quickly building again. Carl closed his eyes in agony, wishing for it to go away. Had he unhinged his jaw from eating too quickly? Maybe something in the food had been particularly sharp. Without opening his mouth, he quietly popped out his dentures a bit so that he could trace the gums with his tongue.

But to his horror, what he sensed immediately wasn't his gums.

Something solid was jutting out from them. Many little somethings. And they were **growing.**

Bathroom. He needed to find a bathroom.

"Be right back! Shrimp went right through me!" Carl yelled loudly, getting up from his chair and making a beeline for the door, leaving a worried Russell in his wake. The boy threw down his hot dog and made to follow.

"Uh...I gotta go too!"

The door slammed shut behind Russell, and Charles, who had not taken his eyes off the pair, leaned back in his chair, scratching one of his dogs behind the ears. Without the slightest bit of humor, he astutely said, "Those two are terrible liars."

Running faster than he had in years, Carl Fredricksen found a nearby bathroom in less than a minute. It made sense that a blimp this large would have many bathrooms, especially when several hundred dogs lived on it, but practicality was far from Carl's thoughts at the moment.

He quickly entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, locking it instantly. The last thing he needed was for someone to barge in on him while he was in the beginnings of a mental breakdown. Popping out his dentures which had become unbearable to wear, he once again felt along his gums.

There was no mistaking it this time. On top of his gums lay two sets of brand new teeth. Solid, sturdy, healthy teeth. Teeth he had removed nearly fifteen years ago. If he looked in the mirror, he was almost certain these new teeth would be white as well.

The mirror!

Carl turned around slowly to face the glass in front of him, shaking where he stood. The last time he had looked in any kind of mirror was yesterday, when he had borrowed Russell's filthy hand-sized one. The reflection of himself was blurry, but at least it was familiar, and didn't appear much different than usual. And any changes he did notice, he could attribute to the mirror's low quality.

But this time, the glass was pristine and perfect. If there was something off, Carl would have no way to make excuses. Taking a hesitant breath, he stepped forward.

And nearly screamed at the sight.

The man staring back at him was still Carl Fredricksen. Same square glasses, same square jaw, same bushy eyebrows. But at the same time, it wasn't him. At least, not the him he had come to know in recent years.

The bags under his eyes had significantly reduced in size and puffiness. The deep etchings around his temples had become a moderate set of Crow's Feet, accompanying much less intense wrinkles on his forehead. His jaw had become more solid, the skin tighter around his neck, as if defying the laws of gravity. His eyes seemed more open, more alive. His age spots were few and far between.

And yes, his hair really was changing color.

What had been a few hairs here or there earlier today had become solid streaks across his head, a golden blonde shade as vibrant and as saturated as a sunflower. Meanwhile, the rest of his hair had darkened to grey. Even as Carl stared at himself, a few more strands shimmered before lightening to blonde. His hair was longer too, and more wavy. He hadn't been hallucinating earlier. Carl opened his mouth wide, and a set of perfect, white teeth gleamed back at him.

He held up a hand to his face, allowing the light from the bathroom to reflect off of it. The texture of his palm was noticeably less weathered, and the fingers felt stronger, Carl realized as he clenched them taut.

This was getting to be too much. Any more shocks and he was afraid he might faint. But he couldn't stop looking at himself. He stepped back to get a full view of his body.

Pants that had been pooling around his ankles were now almost looking a little short. His dress shirt felt loose around the waist, but tighter around the chest. Carl loosened his tie and threw it to the side. Beginning to panic, his breathing came in faster and more frantically.

This wasn't a near octogenarian staring back at him, Carl realized with dread. This was the face and body of someone in his early fifties, barely. Maybe even younger.

"It can't be." Carl said aloud to himself, watching the reflection copy him exactly. Even his voice sounded different. Less scratchy, and slightly higher in pitch. The old man (was he really old anymore?) didn't want to believe it. Hell, he didn't want to even imagine it. But here, with absolute proof looking right back at him, he couldn't deny it any longer.

He needed to get out of here.

Grabbing his tie and dentures, he prepared to leave, hoping to come up with a reasonable excuse by the time he got back to the dining room. Opening the door, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Russell with his hand poised over the doorknob.

"Mr. Fredricksen," Russell exclaimed, grabbing his traveling partner and leading him into the hallway. "What's going on?! Are you feeling okay?! What…"

But the boy soon stopped as well as he viewed Carl more closely, eyes widening. For a boy his age, despite the fact that he was easily distracted and didn't pay attention much, he wasn't dumb. And even if he was, he wouldn't have been able to overlook the differences in the man in front of him.

"What's happening to you, Mr. Fredricksen?" Russell asked nervously.

Carl could barely speak himself. "I...I'm getting younger."

A/N: And there's chapter four. This was my favorite one so far. So yes, the egg Kevin lay has magical properties which bring back whoever eats it to their youth. This was a plot point that was considered for the film, but was eventually scrapped. So I decided to make it my own. Now, I've had a lot of shifts recently, but I'll make sure to have Chapter Five out within a few days. See you soon!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey everyone, how's it going? Hope you've liked what I've written so far (even though there are no reviews as of now,) cause I'm not letting this story go. I'm gonna finish it, come hell or high water. I was going to have Chapter Five out a little sooner, but I've been kind of sick, plus I've had a lot of shifts, plus I spent much of the last two days traveling to Canada with my family. So I haven't had much time to type. Or sleep. But regardless, on we go! Now, this was originally going to be a lot longer, but much like the first two chapters, I feel I can split them up. So while I work on Chapter Six, Chapter Five will be available to read. Enjoy!

**Thanks For the Adventure, Now Go Have a New One**

Chapter Five:

The young boy and now middle-aged man stared at each other for a minute, both struggling to comprehend what Carl had said. Considering the places they'd gone and the creatures they'd met in just over a day, one would think they'd be used to this by now. But this island somehow hept finding ways to surprise them.

"Getting younger?" Russell questioned, hardly believing his own words. Nine year olds tended to have a more vivid imagination than more jaded and learned older people. However, literal age regression was not something he would've expected in his wildest dreams to see in real life. "...Are you sure?"

"Well, I mean...look at me kid!" Carl shouted, gesturing to himself. "Did I look like this this morning?!"

"Uh, no. But...I mean...you don't look **that** young…"

"Russell!" Carl interrupted, his voice becoming more and more wild. "I can't be more than fifty now! I'm almost young enough to be your father! The point is I'm not an old man anymore! I'm changing, and I have no idea how it's happening or if it's ever going to stop!"

Russell froze in response. "Are you saying you...you could…"

"Become a kid? A baby? Get so young I don't exist anymore? I don't know, maybe!" Gasping for breath, Carl began walking frantically in circles around Russell. He roughly clasped his hands around his head. "Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod, this can't be happening to me. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this!"

"Hey, Mr. Fredricksen, it'll be okay." Russell said hopefully, reaching to pat Carl on the back in a vain attempt to calm him down. The boy was finding it hard to comprehend what he was seeing. This younger version of Mr. Fredricksen, even though Russell had only known him for a few seconds, wasn't as closed off as his older counterpart. He seemed to be more open to expressing himself, but that also meant his emotions were coming out with less restraint, like a dam about to burst. Russell wasn't sure what he could do.

"How can you even say that?!" Carl asked in shock, shaking off Russell's hand. He pointed at the boy harshly. "You're not the one being forced to go through his life in reverse like...like some freakshow! I could vanish by tomorrow and you want me to calm down?! How stupid do you have to be to expect something like that?!"

Even though Carl was nearing hysteria, and for good reason, he knew instantly that he had made a mistake. Because as soon as the words left his mouth, Russell clammed up. For the first time since they had met, the boy had nothing to say. The happy, energetic Wilderness Explorer that had led Carl's house through the rainstorm and persuaded him to adopt both Kevin and Doug, had suddenly been replaced by the vulnerable child that had confessed about his neglectful family last night. And Carl couldn't help but feel bad about it.

"I...I just wanted to help."

His demeanor sobering, Carl rubbed his hand down his face with a groan. "Look, Russell...I'm sorry."

The child looked up at the older man. "Really?" He asked softly.

"Really, I mean it. I know you were trying your best to make me feel better. But…" Carl paused, considering for a moment whether he should confess to Russell why he really took his house to Paradise Falls. He was aware the boy at least knew part of the reason why, but he was also afraid the whole truth would traumatize him. Carl decided to skirt around it.

"Did I tell you at any point why I wanted to come here?" Carl asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

Russell paused, putting his hand to his chin. "I...don't think so?"

"I came here because years ago, I made a promise to a little girl that I would take her. We tried saving up for the trip, but every time we almost had enough, something would happen and force up to spend our savings. And then, one day..." Carl stopped, feeling the emotions welling up within him. "...One day, she got really sick, and before the doctors could help her, she was gone."

Russell's face fell open in shock. "You mean she died?"

"...Yes."

"Was...was she your friend?"

Taking a deep breath, the formerly old man let it exhale slowly from his lungs, his form slumped against the wall. "More than that." He said solemnly. "She was my wife."

Russell gasped.

"Her name was Ellie."

"You mean your house?" Russell asked.

Carl nodded.

"So...even though she's gone, you still wanna keep your promise?"

Another nod. "Yes, more than anything in the world." Carl shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "But I don't know if there's a point anymore. Even if I somehow get the house all the way to the Falls, she isn't here to see it. She isn't with me." Lost in his thoughts, the older man failed to notice Russell's expression hardening at his words.

No longer able to support himself, his body sagged to the ground, the weight of his confessions making him feel almost fifty pounds heavier.

"This would've made her so happy." Carl croaked, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, the beginnings of moisture building up in his eyes. "And I was too late. I failed her."

"No!" Russell suddenly shouted, grabbing the middle-aged man roughly by the shoulders and forcing Carl to look at him. Carl was shocked by the action, but was even more surprised to see the return of the fire in the young boy's eyes, which had seemed much duller a few seconds ago. "You haven't failed her, Mr. Fredricksen! I'm not going to let you fail! We still have time to get your house to the Falls!"

Carl wanted to laugh sarcastically at that, but deliberately held back. "Kid, I don't even know if I'll be around long enough to make it over there. By tomorrow or the next day, I could be a baby. Or worse."

"But what if you don't go back that far?" Russell countered, refusing to believe the older man's words. "What if it stops?"

"And what if it doesn't?" Carl argued back. "We could go back and forth on this forever, Russell."

"Back and forth on what?"

Carl and Russell jumped at the third voice, turning around from where they were on the floor to find Charles Muntz not fifty feet from them, a gaggle of dogs at his feet.

"Mr. Muntz!" Carl yelped, hastily stumbling to a standing position. He attempted to make himself look presentable to his host, quickly shoving his now unusable dentures in his pocket. "I'm so sorry we took so long! I really had to go and I had to wait for Russell to finish, and…"

"Now now," Charles responded, holding up a hand, silencing Carl immediately. "It's alright. I understand."

"You do?" Russell asked.

"Of course!" The elderly man answered with an easy smile. "I've had plenty of meals pass through me like that!" He punctuated the sentence with a snap. "But now, it appears as if you're finished, so won't you join me back in the dining room?"

Carl paused, realizing he had forgotten to come up with a reason for them to leave. "Well, I'd uh…. really like to, but we really must be getting back to my house. It's late, and the boy needs to sleep."

"...I believe I just asked you to join me in the dining room." And just like that, Charles' smile had vanished again. The dogs around him narrowed their eyes as a pregnant silence filled the room. Carl attempted to formulate a response.

"But...we've had such a long day, and…"

Charles interrupted him again. "Oh please, I insist. You haven't even tried our dessert yet." He gestured towards his chef hound. "Epsilon here makes a delicious Cherries Jubilee! And he'd be practically insulted if you didn't try it. Wouldn't you, Epsilon?"

The chef growled at Carl and Russell in response, large teeth dripping with drool.

"But...but…" Carl stammered, running a hand through his hair, which had become damp with sweat. "We really have to…"

"What, you can't stay here for a little longer and have a nice dessert before going off to bed?" Charles turned around and began walking back, while his dogs surrounded Carl and Russell, forcing them to follow.

"Your nighttime preparation can't be that long, can it?" Charles continued, his voice mellowing into an even tone. He turned back around and fixed his gaze directly on Carl. "What do you have to do? Stretch your limbs? Take your pills? Brush your **teeth**?"

Carl stopped dead in his tracks, instinctively patting his pants where he knew he had put his dentures.

They were gone.

Looking down, Carl was shocked to find them in Alpha's mouth. He hadn't even felt them leave his pocket. The dog's eyes glowed menacingly as he almost dared the human to try and grab them. Mouth gaping, the middle-aged man caught Charles' gaze, only for the older gentlemen to give a vicious smile and turn away.

There was no doubt now.

Charles Muntz _knew._

A/N: And there's Chapter Five! Thanks for the wait, everybody. I'll tell ya, each chapter is getting harder. This is the first one that's entirely original material, and I struggled at keeping the characters consistent, particularly Russell. I'm not used to writing kids, so I'm trying to keep his dialogue simple without making it sound too adult. But, now, time to start Chapter Six, where the inevitable confrontation between Charles and Carl happens. See you then!


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